


you're like a breath of fresh air in my lungs

by ashisonthefloor



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, OT4, and descriptions of ashton being upset and feeling like he cant breathe, but it isnt Bad, i wouldnt say angst but theres some mild jealousy and pining, like sex is implied and theres one line abt getting off but thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisonthefloor/pseuds/ashisonthefloor
Summary: “Luke’s been extra clingy lately,” Michael started, gaze shifting from Calum to Ashton and back again. His tone was conversational, but it was clear - to Ashton, at least - that he was trying to go somewhere with it. Trying to push for information. He was perched on the counter, legs swinging in the very I’m-not-always-aware-of-what-my-body-is-doing sort of way that was very Michael.Calum sipped his coffee, letting out a hum. “He’s always clingy.” It seemed like Calum wanted to talk about it about as much as Ashton did.“Okay, yeah, but he kissed you this morning."or, 5 times Ashton feels jealous about how close his bandmates have gotten, and 1 time he doesn't.
Relationships: Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood, Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford/Calum Hood, Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings, Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 74





	you're like a breath of fresh air in my lungs

**Author's Note:**

> here's my attempt at a short n sweet 5+1. I've decided to call this genre pseudo-angst, since it's not really angst and pretty fluffy towards the end. I imagined the guys a few years younger, since this is a little less mature than I think they'd act now, but it's enjoyable either way and doesn't matter too much. the title is taken from Ready or Not by Brigdit Mendler. enjoy! let me know what you think or if you want an epilogue, this is a style I haven't posted before and I tried some new things. thanks <3

No one is entirely sure who starts it, but all bets are on Luke. It’s only noticeable once it becomes a Thing. When Luke leans in to press a quick kiss to whoever’s cheek is closest any time he has to leave. It gets extra noticeable when they all start leaning into it. 

It remains just that, an unspoken Thing that none of them broach, left alone and quiet so no one really has to think about the implications or what it means.That was, of course, until Michael decided he was going to go against the unspoken rule, and bring it up when they’re clustered in the kitchen. Minus Luke, who was off doing god knows what. 

“Luke’s been extra clingy lately,” Michael started, gaze shifting from Calum to Ashton and back again. His tone was conversational, but it was clear - to Ashton, at least - that he was trying to go somewhere with it. Trying to push for information. He was perched on the counter, legs swinging in the very I’m-not-always-aware-of-what-my-body-is-doing sort of way that was very Michael. 

Calum sipped his coffee, letting out a hum. “He’s always clingy.” It seemed like Calum wanted to talk about it about as much as Ashton did. 

“Okay, yeah, but he kissed you this morning,” Michael pointed out, like it meant something. And maybe it did, Ashton just really didn’t want to think about it. He liked the dynamics they had. Questioning anything Luke did was just a good way to get confused; he rarely knew what he was doing enough to explain it to others, figuring out his logic was complicated in its own right. 

“He did,” Calum agreed, sly smile coming onto his face. It had only been a kiss on the cheek, no cause for alarm. But, for Ashton, it was still very much cause for alarm. Maybe. “Are you jealous?”

Michael started, expression shifting into the annoyed scowl he’d perfected years ago. “No! I’m just- I just meant he’s been weirdly clingy lately. Fuck off, Cal.”

Ashton snorted at that, unable to help himself. “You sound jealous.” He didn’t like stoking the fire of Michael’s annoyance - or continuing pointless arguments - but it was easier than the subject matter at hand. He didn’t want to think about the way his stomach twisted at the thought of Luke kissing all of them the way he was, didn’t want to understand what or why he was feeling. 

“Fuck off,” was Michael’s eloquent response, leaning back against the wall, swinging his legs again, so his heels hit against the cabinets below in time with Ashton’s rapid heartbeat. Bump bump. Bump bump. At least his heartbeat wasn’t scuffing the paint.

“Seriously,” Michael said, leaning forward a little, fringe in his eyes. Ashton didn’t brush it out this time the way he normally did, hand staying firmly on his mug of coffee. “What’s up with him?”

“I think he’s just lonely or something, Mikey,” Calum consoled, taking over the position of peacemaker in Ashton’s determined silence. “Either that or he’s got a crush on you.” He poked at Michael’s thigh, trying to keep things lighthearted. 

Michael squirmed over slightly with a laugh. “Fuck off,” he said, for the third time since they’d gathered in the kitchen twenty minutes ago, long enough to brew a pot of coffee and have uncomfortable conversations. “No, really. I don’t think he does. He’s doing it to all of us. You and Ashton included.” His gaze flickered over to Ashton. So he really did want to talk about it. 

“Okay, and?” Calum glanced over at Ashton before back to Michael. “What about it?”

“It’s /weird/, that’s what.” Michael leaned back against the upper cabinets again, head hitting them with a soft thunk. “He didn’t always do that.”

Ashton wasn’t listening so much anymore. He sipped his coffee, gaze somewhere on the cabinets above Michael’s brightly dyed hair. He was distracted, caught up in his own thoughts, memories of a few weeks ago before this all started. Nimble fingers tugging at his shirt buttons, laughter lost against his lips when they’d stumbled, teeth catching his lower lip, blonde curls silky between his fingers when he’d reached out and tugged. It hadn’t gotten far - not near as far as they’d anticipated - they’d been too sober for it to seem anything but too comfortable. It had been Ashton to voice his concerns first - should we be doing this, is this okay, what if the others find out - and Luke had pulled back, disappointment in his eyes like he’d expected it to be easy. He still remembered just how cold his sheets had felt, empty and bare the way they had been since that night. No late night Luke crawling in because he got lonely and needed company, or because he had a bad dream and needed consolation, or because he wanted to talk about his dreams for the band, for /them/, and Ashton was always willing to listen. 

Ashton drained his coffee mug and set it into the sink maybe a little harder than he should have, deciding he didn’t want to be part of the conversation, and turned to leave the kitchen. The last thing he caught was Michael’s “Fuck, what’s gotten into him?”

*****

It doesn’t get brought up for a few days, giving Ashton a short but sweet respite from having to think about the unhappiness simmering in the pit of his stomach, the way it twisted whenever he caught Luke kissing the other two, something a little too close to jealousy for his comfort, even if Ashton determinedly didn’t think about it, or which way it went.

Luke settled himself into Calum’s lap on the couch, ruining whatever game he’d been trying to play against Michael. “Come on, that’s cheating!” Calum laughed, hands abandoning the controller to drop to Luke’s waist, anyway, trying to look around him at the screen. 

“All’s fair in love and war,” Michael sang triumphantly, grin on his face as he crossed the finish line in Mario Kart, tossing his controller down to do a victory dance that was more an aborted flail of his limbs, shimmying a little in place, complete with sticking his tongue out in the most mature display of bragging Michael was capable of.

“This isn’t love or war,” Calum pointed out, though he didn’t look too put out that he’d lost, anyway. 

“What are you talking about? Mario Kart counts as war,” Michael said, at the same time Luke said “it might be love.”

And that got everyone’s attention, three pairs of eyes snapping up to Luke’s face almost instantly.. “What did you say?” Ashton finally spoke up from where he was sitting in the armchair, glancing up from his phone screen in time to watch Luke turn pink. The kind of pink that reminded him of when it got cold and Luke refused to wear a jacket, just so he could steal Ashton’s, or Calum’s or Michael’s. His nose just wasn’t pink, now, but the colour of his face certainly made up for that.

Luke was the most attention-driven of the four of them - though Calum certainly didn’t mind it at all, most of the time - so him blushing was a little bit strange. Which was only confounded by his equally strange response. “I didn’t say anything,” he said, clearly avoiding the question. “Maybe we should order pizza.”

“Fuck yeah,” Michael said, easily bought and distracted. 

“Wait-“ Ashton said, trying to ask again. 

“You heard him,” Calum said with a grin, squeezing Luke’s hips just to make him shift on his lap and laugh. “He said he loooooooves us.” His hands creeped up to poke at his sides. 

“Cal! Stop!” Luke managed to get through his giggles, as Calum started actively tickling his sides. 

Ashton just frowned a little bit, sinking further into the chair. When Michael wanted to talk about complicated things, they all had to comply. But, apparently, not when Ashton did. What was going /on/ with the three of them, anyway? Hadn’t the tickle fights been abandoned in grade school? He didn’t want to think about the now-familiar twist in his gut. It was forming into something tangible, too, shifting and morphing to be accompanied by an ache in his chest that, if he were any more poetic, he would insist was a hole in his heart. A very Luke shaped hole. Or, more precisely, a more uncomplicated version of his band shaped hole, back when he didn’t have to think about things too much, or when he didn’t feel that awful ache when Calum had his hands up on Luke like that, Michael moving in to poke at him from the side. He wasn’t sure they’d ever fully been like this, though. Years of living in close quarters had blurred ang boundaries they may have had at one point. Ashton seemed to be the only one that had any left. 

And that, too, was its own form of miserable, feeling constantly like he was on the outside, looking in, unable to participate. The ache was back now, full force, and he pulled his gaze to the TV, even though he really wasn’t paying attention to anything anymore. He hated this feeling, hated feeling like the last one in on a joke, or like he was always the one dragging his feet. It went along with being the reasonable one, though, and he couldn’t abandon that, or Luke would try and microwave eggs again and they’d burn the whole place down. 

“Ashton,” Michael finally said, face flushed and words breathless, nothing but happiness in his eyes. “Can you order the pizza?”

And, just once, Ashton really hated being the reasonable one.

*******  
“You have to stay still,” Luke chastised, still perched carefully in his lap. He’d insisted on doing Ashton’s makeup - though he really wasn’t sure how much of an expert Luke was on it to begin with - and as soon as he’d agreed, albeit slightly reluctantly, Luke had been climbing into his lap, eyeliner in hand. It seemed like he already knew what he wanted to do. 

“I’m not the one moving around.” And he was pretty sure about that. His hands were still on Luke’s hips, trying to hold him steady and keep from wobbling around. 

“Yeah, you are.” Luke’s breath was warm on his cheek, comforting in a way he wouldn’t have expected from someone who forgot to brush his teeth way too often when he was younger. He hadn’t been this close to Luke since that night, a week and a half ago, when Luke had given him that look with enough hurt to shatter his soul, and left before he could put it back together again. 

“Whatever you say.” It was easier than continuing to argue, or coming up with a well considered reply. Luke’s fingers, too, were just as warm, one hand holding his jaw to keep his head tilted up, like he needed the constant reminder, the knuckles of his other hand brushing his cheek as he worked on Ashton’s winged liner. He was reminded of those same fingers brushing against more of his bare chest with every button that opened, the way Luke felt laughing into their kiss, head tipped down slightly to meet his, eyelashes brushing Ashton’s cheek when he tipped his head just a little too far as they maneuvered to the bed. He could feel the rhythmic in and out of his breathing, his heartbeat steady in its cage, too, because of how close they were now, Luke leaning over him, knees bracketing Ashton’s hips, lower legs pressed warm and steady against Ashton’s thighs. 

Luke didn’t reply, for once seeming to prefer the silence, and leaned forward instead, switching his focus to the other eye. With no noise between them, other than the sound of their breathing, all Ashton could really focus on was the sound of his own heartbeat, thudding a too-fast rhythm in his chest like he was at his drum kit working out his emotions, letting the steady thud of his bass drum drown out anything else he could be thinking about. And, god, he wished he was there now, instead of here, fingers a little lower than they should be, thoughts flickering between Luke and his unending warmth and presence, and the other guys in the band, and what they would do if they walked in to see Luke in his lap, so close Ashton could feel his breath, smell the blue jolly rancher he’d had in his mouth before he’d started this whole thing. It was too complicated, too many things to focus on at once, and he was trying to keep his mind in one place. It just wasn’t working very well. 

“There,” Luke said at last, letting go of his eye and pulling back. “Now you just need lipstick.”

Ashton opened his eyes, immediately preparing to argue. “Wait, I thought you said-“

“I said I was doing your makeup. Makeup includes lipstick,” Luke cut him off, having seemingly expected Ashton’s trepidation. 

He leaned over and grabbed the tube of lipstick before leaning over him again. “Open your mouth a little,” he instructed, opening the lipstick and slowly starting to apply it once Ashton obeyed him. His hands were surprisingly steady, now, no hint of the nervous tremor he had sometimes in interviews, hand slipping soundlessly into Ashton’s underneath the table where no one could see. Not that it really mattered if they did, but people could be unkind, and they didn’t need any more rumors about their band. Not after the one about Michael and Calum sleeping together - or, worse, the one where /all/ of them had been. 

As far as rumors went, it wasn’t the worst. It didn’t bring good things for the band, though, not with social stigma being the way it was. But it wasn’t the worst thought, being with the three guys. They were his closest friends, and the people he trusted with his life. And it was absolutely, without a doubt, leagues about the rumor where he had been a cheater. He hadn’t had a girlfriend, or a partner, or anyone, but someone had run a story flat out saying he’d cheated on some girl. That had taken a lot of fixing, and no one had been pleased. He remembered how angry Michael had been on his behalf, threatening to call the publisher and ‘give them a piece of his mind’, Luke having already taken the position of comforting Ashton, sliding his hand into his to give him something to hold. He hadn’t been that broken up about it, honestly, but it had been touching, the way they all came together to try and help. He still remembered Calum pulling him aside later, hand on his shoulder and concerned frown that he wore so well already on his face, asking if he was okay or if he needed a hug, and that he would get one anyway. And yeah, if he had to date more than one person, they’d probably be a good choice. 

“Done!” Luke announced, smiling a little. He shifted back on Ashton’s thighs to inspect his work, head tilting to the right, when Calum and Michael came in. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Michael called as he walked in, laughing slightly to himself afterward. Calum just rolled his eyes fondly as they stepped across the doorframe, both pausing a little in place as they caught sight of Luke and Ashton. 

“Whoa.” Michael was the first to speak. “You look good, Ash. Got a hot date later?”

“Yeah,” Ashton replied, getting over his momentary shock of being walked in on with Luke still in his lap, hands just a little too tight on his hips. “With your mum.”

Michael snorted, but it earned him an actual laugh from Calum. “You do look good. The lipstick looks nice. And I like the little heart on your cheekbone.” Calum tapped a finger against his own face, presumably where the heart was on Ashton’s. 

“You added a heart?” Ashton asked. That explained what he’d been doing there, then. 

Luke shrugged. “It looks cute.”

“It does look cute. You look ready to do a little dance for us, Ash,” Michael continued, ever the supportive friend. “Could always toss on a skirt.” He sounded less cutting and more intrigued than he was probably aiming for. Calum just gave him a look and, since he was closest, poked him in the ribs to make him squirm away. “It was a compliment!” Michael squawked in his own defense, hand coming up to defend his ribs. 

“I’m ordering takeout,” Calum said, changing the subject. “I don’t feel like cooking. And no pizza this time,” he directed at Michael with a look. 

Luke just shifted on Ashton’s lap, drawing his attention back to him. “You do look good, Ash.”

“Yeah,” he said. Swallowed. Continued. “Thanks.”

Luke just gave him a smile that had no right being as soft or as loving as it was. The strange ache in his chest was back full force, longing for something he couldn’t have, accompanied by his heart fluttering, trapped in a too-small cage and begging for release. “You’re welcome.”

*********

His respite is short, and a little less than sweet. Calum sat next to him on the couch, maybe two days after the makeup incident. “What are we watching?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton said, looking up from his phone to look at the TV. “It looks like the Avengers. I’m not really watching, if you want to change it.” He dropped the remote into Calum’s lap, attention going back to his phone. He had his suspicions about what this was, Calum coming to talk to him about ‘whatever had been going on with him lately’, the same way Ashton always did whenever one of the others was upset. He didn’t like seeing his role from the other side, didn’t want to be comforted or talk about it. He was fine, perfectly fucking fine, even if his chest ached sometimes in a way he couldn’t name (wouldn’t name, didn’t want the j word to ring true even in his own mind), especially when he felt like the others were in on some fucking secret he wasn’t, like the other day with Luke, in Calum’s lap.

He realized he’d stiffened at some point when Calum wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into his side, rubbing at his shoulder and arm like he was trying to comfort him. Ashton really didn’t want to be comforted, didn’t need it, he was a fully functional adult who absolutely wasn’t bothered. Calum was unrelenting though, rubbing little circles onto Ashton’s shoulder with his thumb, not broaching the subject, knowing Ashton wouldn’t want to talk about it from years of friendship and experience. It hung in the air, though, tangible and almost heavy, a weight that reminded him of the same tightness he often felt wrapped around his lungs that only loosened slightly when he was with Luke - or, he supposed, if he’d actually talk about it. Like Luke was a breath of fresh air, and he was a drowning man who’d just gotten his head above water, breathing in deep and not caring about the salty water that burned on the way down. 

And maybe that was alright, because Calum was warm, and comfortable. He’d leaned his head on him at some point, pillowed against Calum’s thick hoodie covered shoulder. And if he fell asleep there, warm and comforted, lulled to peace and relaxation by the steady in and out of Calum's breathing, and his heartbeat, and the familiar smell of his Calvin Klein cologne, then that was okay, too. 

If Luke came in an hour later, fingers tangled with Michael’s, and eyes burning bright with some unnameable emotion, some new fire in his soul, looking at Ashton like he was daring him - begging him - to understand him, then maybe that was made just a little more bearable by the comforting, unmoving weight of Calum’s arm around his shoulders.

***********

Ashton’s a little later getting home, having to make the grocery run alone because the others had been busy. He finished putting them away - really, did Michael have to leave fucking cereal all over the counter? Clean the fuck up - before wandering into the living room in search of the guys. He was expecting them to be all sprawled out on the couches, taking up as much space as humanly possible while keeping some sort of contact with each other, the way they normally did.

He was not expecting them to have yanked a shit ton of blankets and pillows onto the floor to form a giant nest, all snuggled in together like they’d done a few times when they were younger. Before they’d all grown up and moved past the phase where cuddling in together in a giant pile felt completely natural, and no one was that bothered by the others’ morning wood and Michael’s incessant dick jokes. Looking at them now, though, Ashton couldn’t help but wonder if he was the only one that had grown past that. He’d thought it had been a natural shift, all of them growing up and out of it. Maybe they’d just slowly started leaving him out of it.

Luke seemed awfully comfortable with his head on Calum’s chest, fingers laced together with Michael’s, their hands laying on Calum’s stomach. Michael, on Calum’s other side, definitely seemed comfortable, both of his arms wrapped around Calum and Luke, face pressed in against Calum’s left shoulder, several steps above where Ashton had been with him a few days prior in terms of intimacy.

For the first time since he’d gotten used to being in the band, being included - since the other three had assured him they cared about him, and he was part of them - he felt like he’d stumbled in on something private, something secret, something not for his viewing. The feeling was only solidified when Luke laughed at something on screen, turning to press his smile into Calum’s chest, eyes coming up to meet Calum’s with nothing but love shining bright. Nothing like the smoldering fire he’d had when he’d looked at Ashton the other day.  
None of them had noticed him yet, making it easy to turn tell and head back to the safety of his bedroom. It wasn’t easy to forget how happy, how peaceful they’d all looked. Calum’s hand carding through Luke’s curls like he wasn’t thinking about it, Michael brushing his thumb over Luke’s knuckles, half asleep on Calum’s shoulder, the absolute love and adoration in Luke’s eyes.

And Ashton didn’t get it. Didn’t know when they’d started this back up again, didn’t know why he hadn’t been included. If he wanted to be included. How long had they been doing that again? How long had they been waiting for Ashton to leave so they could all curl up together without having to worry about him catching them, ruining it somehow? The thought of that was enough to fuck up anything else. He’d thought they were a team, close as a group as well as individually. He guessed he was wrong, though, if they felt the need to tiptoe around him the way they were. How long? How long had they been wanting to avoid him, for stolen moments together?

The thought was enough to bring that tightness back, curling up and around his lungs, cutting off his breath so every inhale feels sharp and heady. His heart was still caught in its cage, too small, too painful, each staccato beat catching him off guard, pounding loud and heavy in his ears in the suffocating silence of the empty room. Bathed in shadow and darkness, he didn’t bother turning on the light, preferring to avoid the harshness, preferring to not have to think too much beyond the moment.

If Ashton spent the rest of his evening wrapped up in his covers, lights staying off, in pseudo approximation of sleep, then no one had to know. And if he got himself off, hand around himself in the cover of darkness, with Luke’s name on his lips, mind chasing could-have-beens, memory somewhere in that night of Almost, hatred for himself potent in every movement of his body, then no one had to know.

********

He managed to make it almost a week, creeping around the other guys so he’s not caught with them in one place for too long. He could see the worry in their eyes, in the way Calum’s gaze shifts to Luke, or Michael, any time they’re all together for a moment, in the crease of his brow and the small tilt of his head. Calum had mastered silent communication years ago, and Ashton refused to remember that it had originally been for the two of them, exasperated sometimes with Michael picking on Luke, or someone asking them a stupid question. So it was a new kind of pain to see that being used against him.

His luck didn’t last long, though, before Calum caught him by the arm, concerned frown on his face. “Okay, what is going on with you?” He asked, leaving little room for the caginess Ashton had been favouring lately. As Ashton opened his mouth to reply, Calum spoke again. “And don’t you dare say nothing, you’ve been avoiding us for a week. That isn’t normal. Not for you.” 

Ashton deliberated for a moment on whether he wanted to be honest. In the end, Calum’s earnest, worried face is what tipped the scales for him, and he decided on replying with candor. “I saw you guys, a week ago.” Calum’s frown deepened, and Ashton felt the now-familiar twist in his gut. “I figured you wanted some time to yourselves, since you seemed like you were awfully comfortable doing that.” 

“Ashton-”

“And like a week before that, I thought Luke wanted to fuck me and then he left and wouldn’t talk to me after, and then started fucking kissing you guys and still wouldn’t talk about it. So I really don’t know what’s going on with you guys, but it’s pretty fucking clear I’m not invited.” He didn’t know what possessed him to blurt the rest of it out, but it was too late now, anyway. And the tightness around his chest, like someone had wrapped saran wrap around his chest as tight as they could, constricting everything in the worst possible way, loosened just a bit with his words. So maybe it was just that little bit worth it, even as Calum chewed on his lower lip in thought.

“You are invited,” he finally said, and what the fuck was that supposed to mean? Ashton didn’t get the chance to ask before Calum was taking his arm again and pulling him down the hall to Michael’s room.

“Calum, what the fuck-” was all Ashton managed to get out before Calum was knocking on the door and letting them in. 

Michael was sprawled out on his stomach, feet on his pillow at the head of the bed, scrolling on his phone. Luke was next to him, leaning against the wall, also distracted by his phone. They looked up immediately when Calum dragged Ashton in.

“We have to tell him,” Calum said, gaze shifting from Luke to Michael and back again. “He saw us cuddling and thought we didn’t want him around.” He looked at Luke. “And he thinks you don’t like him, or don’t want him, after you started whatever that was and stopped.”

Ashton was...fucking confused, to say the least. What the /fuck/ was going on? Why did Luke look all guilty? And seriously, what the fuck did Calum want them to tell him? God, if they were all fucking, he was quitting the band.

“We’re all….together,” Luke said, words slow and methodical like he was actually trying to think about what he was saying, stringing words together carefully so he made sense, which wasn’t always his strong suit. Ashton had to translate for him, sometimes, when they were talking to someone else. It was strange to be on the receiving end. “Kind of. Um. And that night- well, I like you- we like you- so I was trying to figure out how to tell you.” Luke flushed, light pink dusting his cheeks, slightly tan from the summer sun. “But then you started asking questions, and I didn’t know how to answer any of them, and I panicked.”  
Michael’s hand moved to take Luke’s, fingers lacing together like it was the most natural thing in the world. And for them, it probably was. They’d been doing this for god knew how long, tiptoeing around Ashton carefully so they wouldn’t have to explain. And sure, maybe Ashton didn’t entirely get it yet, and had too many questions, but wasn’t that to be expected, since he was the last to join? They already had an idea of how they worked as...a slightly more romantic relationship, or whatever they were. Ashton didn’t. The constricting tightness was back, not as bad now, but very prevalent in the face of realizing that he was right, he had intentionally been left out. It felt like a straight jacket, restricting his movements and keeping him stuck in place, Calum’s hand still warm where it held his arm, his mind moving a few paces slower than he would have liked. His breathing, at least, felt a little steadier, a little more even, even if each one felt strange through the tightness of his imaginary straight jacket.

“You’re all...together?” Ashton finally managed to get out, the three others looking at him expectantly, waiting on his answer. His gaze lingered on Luke’s nervous face. He didn’t want to make him feel nervous, wanted to wipe the nerves from his face and console him until he felt better, wrapped up in Ashton’s arms like they’d done before this whole mess started. “Dating?”

Michael looked at Calum uneasily, like the answer was written on his forehead. In reality, they were just doing Calum’s silent communication thing. “We...haven’t really talked about it like that,” he said, just as slowly as Luke. “But, uh. Yeah. I guess. We’re all exclusive, and just like each other. We haven’t told anyone yet, and were trying to...well, we were trying to figure out how to tell you and ask you to join.”

“Which was what Luke was doing,” Calum added, even though Luke had already explained that part. Although, what they hadn’t explained was-

“How did you all start?” Ashton asked. If it was so hard to tell him, then how had it started for the other three? He didn’t imagine it was easy.

Luke flushed darker at that, shrinking down a little in place. Calum was the one who actually answered. “I walked in on Michael and Luke kissing. Then we sort of talked about it, and figured out we all liked each other. Then one thing led to another and...here we are.”

“He’d said he wanted experience.” Michael was pink, too, Ashton noted. Interesting.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me after that? If you all like me.” Ashton really didn’t know why he felt so hurt by it. It wasn’t like he wanted in on whatever this was, was it? Sure, he’d thought about it a couple times, but it wasn’t like he’d ever thought it was a possibility. Now that it was...he was surprised to find that dating his three best friends really didn’t sound as strange as he would’ve expected. “How long has this been going on?”

“About a month or two.” Calum answered the easier question first. Ashton really couldn’t fault him for it, but he really wanted an answer to his first question. The straight jacket tightened a little, imagining the people he was closest to, the people he trusted with his life, tiptoeing around him to avoid telling him about the love and comfort they’d found in each other. He knew it was imaginary, but he could almost feel the burn of the salt water in his throat with the way his breathing felt shallow. He knew it wasn’t real, was just that tightness that happened now, but it didn’t make it any less shitty; like his bandmates had all figured out how they fit together, a three piece puzzle with no need for a fourth, an extra piece in the box, meant to go to another, but now was void of purpose.

“We just didn’t know how to tell you, Ashy.” Luke took the harder question, softness in his eyes and in his voice. “We love you. We just...fell into this. We didn’t know how to do it deliberately. We didn’t- I didn’t know if you liked us - me - back. We didn’t want you to quit the band or hate us for it.”

That made it worse, jacket tightening a little around his heart, squeezing in sympathy to the worry he could see in Luke’s face, mirrored by the other two. He didn’t want them to worry about his reactions like that. “I’d never hate you. Any of you.” His lips pulled down, into a frown, gaze falling heavy on each of their faces for a moment. “You could’ve told me.” He took as deep a breath as he could manage, the straight jacket not wanting him to have even a moment of respite, slowly becoming a tangible weight around his chest. “I...want in. I do like you all back. I might just need a bit to get used to having three-”

Luke’s face broke into a bright grin, happiness exuding from his entire body. He shifted over to extend a hand to Ashton. “This calls for a group cuddle.”

Michael laughed, the sentiment echoed by Calum, still at Ashton’s side. Calum’s hand had slid from his arm to slide into his own at some point, so Calum squeezed it before letting go so he could nudge Ashton forward gently, until he reached the bed. He took Luke’s still outstretched hand, Michael rolling over so Luke could tug him to lay down on the bed. Calum pressed in along his left side, Luke taking his right, pressing along the length of his body, head resting on his chest. Micheal scooted in to smush against Luke’s back, hand creeping over Luke’s side to find Ashton’s hand. It was like they knew he needed the extra reassurance, the help to adjust to the new relationship.

“We can talk everything over in the morning,” Calum murmured, like he knew Ashton’s mind was running away from him, thoughts piling in on themselves so fast he couldn’t keep up. And he probably did, he’d known Ashton long enough to know how he worked. And that fact - and being beneath the warm pile of boys he loved with his whole heart - was comforting.

As Ashton felt himself grow sleepy, he realized the tightness in his chest was gone, for the first time in weeks. It was replaced, now, with the comforting weight of Calum’s arms around him, Luke’s head on his chest, Michael’s hand in his resting on his stomach. He took a deep breath, reveling in the fact that he could freely, now, and let himself drift off, his boys - his boyfriends - around him, calm and refreshing, like a fresh breath of air after so long without.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream with me on tumblr @ashesonthefloor


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